


Fight On Biach!

by VixenofAwesome



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (idk if im tagging right), (is it swapfell or fellswap????), A couple of OCs - Freeform, Accuracy depends on many things, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Another self-shipping thingy cuz I have to self control, Because my pacing is always slow, Beware, But hopefully that gets better, Death, Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gore, Hate, I Don't Even Know, I don't even know anymore, I should really finish other stories before starting other ones, Lot's of hate, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Reader is not good human, Slow Burn, Tags Are Hard, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Violence, Warnings for chapters ahead, Why Did I Write This?, You Have Been Warned, bitty - Freeform, but a bit later, but too bad, slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-03-08 10:44:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18893047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VixenofAwesome/pseuds/VixenofAwesome
Summary: You aren’t a good person, you know that.You’ve done things you didn’t need to, hurt others as if it didn’t matter, and have tried to climb to the top from the very bottom.Things…..change when you have an encounter with a few bitties.





	1. Life sucks

**Author's Note:**

> I luv the fellswap (swapfell) bros. 
> 
> Mutt and Black is what they are mostly known as. Those two. Lovelies. 
> 
> So I present this to anyone else who loves (and/or likes) those two. 
> 
> Happy reading :D  
> \----------------------------------
> 
> WARNING- mild mentions of violence, fights, death, swears, etc. 
> 
> Please only continue if you can put up with that stuff etc.

 

Life, It was never easy. It constantly kicked you down over and over. Making days seem like curses, and nights swim by in a fog.

 

It dragged on no matter what happened, the universe just didn’t care if you lost someone, or if something happened to you; it just continued on.

 

And with existing on this planet, where things were becoming very messy, very fast, the strong ruled over the weak. Well, not really, but in a sense it did. It was more like the rich ruled it all.

 

In the world where money made all the difference, you desperately tried to climb to the top. Taking on job after job after job, hoping that someday you would just be able to live.

 

There were easy jobs, jobs that would pay minimum wage, jobs that would barely cover rent, and jobs that just sucked.

 

Mostly you went for jobs that sucked, at least they paid slightly more.

 

You were thankful for the jobs that you had, you tried to remind yourself of the fact that you were better off than hundreds out there struggling in the world, trying to make it up the chain, trying to live, to survive in this crazy world.

 

But it was kind of hard to focus on being thankful when you were jarred out of your thoughts with a painful roundhouse kick to the face.

 

Your head snapped to the side, and you felt hot blood run down your face as you tried to recover your balance. Great, it felt like your nose broke. Fantastic, not at all painful.

 

The ringing in your ears died out and the ravenous cheers for gore echoed in it’s place.

 

Fighting hadn’t always been your thing, especially underground fighting. But hey! It made good money!

 

You learned that a while ago, and it had helped you out during your lifetime. Quite a lot of it actually, but now wasn’t the time to get all melancholy and recall the past. There was someone who needed an ass kicking.

 

Swiping the blood from your face, you grinned at your large opponent, hoping that showing he hadn’t fazed you much would intimidate him.

 

Not that you weren’t affected, in fact you could see stars bouncing in your vision, but forced yourself to stay up and grinning. Even as more blood dribbled down down your face and into your grin.

 

He looked a pinch unsettled, and you hoped he was more affected by your bloody grin than he was letting on , because you could taste to blood on your tongue, and wanted to wince at the bitterness.

 

The giant advanced quickly, ducking down to try and uppercut you. But he was too slow for you, his bulging muscles slowing down what was supposed to be a speedy approach.  

 

You took a step back, his fist flying a hair from your chin as he threw it upward. You could feel the air whoosh by your face as his punch glided by. At least you hadn't taken that blow to your already bruising face.

 

Twisting your feet, you locked one behind his leg, throwing your fist to his face as hard as you could. He toppled back, tripping over your foot and grunting in pain as he brought his arms up to shield himself from you.

 

You fell forwards with him, using the momentum to latch yourself onto his middle, throwing punch after punch into his ribs, hoping to crack a few. Perhaps it would immobilize him and cause him to tap out, or for the referee to declare you the winner.  

 

Unexpectedly, he tossed his arms down,catching you off guard and curling his hands around your neck, yanking you away from him and rolling over. Introducing your brilliant self to the grimy floor of the ring.

 

You wheezed and clawed at his giant hands, wiggling desperately, trying to get out of his grip. But he held fast, tightening his hold, and you already felt the bruises forming on your skin. That was going to be fantastic to walk around with.

 

Honest to God you weren’t a bad fighter. In fact, you had won more than over half the fights you ever fought. You were a good fighter! You just needed to concentrate again. Get in the zone, find your happy place, all that jazz.  

 

With a sick grin, your opponent lent forward, laughing harshly into your face. His revolting, warm breath floating down, causing you to wrinkle your nose up in disgust.

 

“Not so great now, Ey?” Your opponent rumbled out, his harsh snarl turning into an amused grin as you continued to scratch at his meaty hands.

 

Anger sparked through you at his words.

 

You were gonna beat this guys brains so far down his throat that he wouldn’t be able to speak without spewing brain matter everywhere.

 

He pressed harder onto your throat, his weight leaning into his arms, sealing off your airway, and panic shocked your nerves as black danced in the edge of your vision.

 

But you refused to be beaten so easily. Besides, The idiotic giant had made a mistake.

 

You lifted a now freed leg and braced it on his stomach, clutching his shoulders tightly with the best smirk you could manage at the moment. Bringing your other leg up swiftly before he could shift, you slammed it against his chest, feeling a sadistic glee when you felt a few of his ribs give way with a sick crunch .

 

With the momentum, you flipped him over, slipping out of his grip when he slammed into the ground of the ring. The air deserted his lungs with a big whoosh that made the audiences roar explode throughout the large room.

 

Gulping down heavy breaths, you began to smash your fists into his face. His hesitation causing you to get in a few good hits that soon had him passed out and bleeding. Looks like you also broke his nose, HA! Karma. 

 

Brilliant! Now you just had to wait for your announcement of victory before you could gather your money!!

 

You pushed yourself up, wincing painfully at the soreness that spread through your limbs. Neck and face already bruising, causing painful aches when you moved.

 

Ah well, at least you were going to get paid handsomely.  

 

Throwing your hands in the air you let out a victorious roar, the people echoing it and throwing their fists upward as well. You watched in contentment as the announcer grinned at you, leaning toward the microphone they had, ready to announce you as the winner of the bloody match.

 

Of course, it didn’t go that way.

 

What happened instead, was that a screeching alarm went off somewhere in the screaming crowd, and the loud and panicked shout of the announcer rose over the deafening noise.

 

“IT’S THE FUZZ!!!! SCATTER!!!”

 

Instantly you were on your feet and vaulting over the rings chains, Scanning the crowd and searching for the announcer, wanting to get your money despite the interruption of the fight.

 

The crowds screams turned crazed and frantic, as they scrambled to escape the now unsafe building. Trying to find the easiest exit from the giant building.

 

There must have been an undercover cop or mole somewhere. Whatever, you just knew you didn’t need to be locked up for who knows how long.

 

Ignoring the closest exits, you ran down a hall, which you knew led to the the back somewhere.

 

You figured ducking out the back was the best option here. With an eye roll, you pushed past dozens, urgency to escape screaming at you to go faster.

 

Of course there were more rooms back there with all kinds of matches going on, and you had to shove tides of people aside as you searched for an exit.

 

In the distance you heard sirens, and the stampeding of the humans that had come to participate, watch, and bet on the illegal fights.

 

As the sirens rang louder, you ducked into a room that looked mostly abandoned,  stay humans occasionally skittering through the windows or ducking through the doors.

 

You stopped, leaning your hands onto your knees as you tried to catch your breath.  Swiping at the blood that continued to dribble out your nose. The pain of your broken nose serving as a bitter reminder that you had gotten distracted in the ring.

 

Damn it! This meant you didn’t get paid for your fights tonight!!

 

Anger coursed through your veins as you scanned the room. Trying to find a good way out.

 

You froze when your eyes fell upon a small, caged ring in the middle of the room.

 

It was coated in dust, and if you didn’t know any better you would say that it was because it hadn’t been used in a long time. But you did know better, and the thought of such a thing happening in the building you were working in made your heart grow cold for a moment. ~~Was it really only a moment?~~

 

It was Bitty dust.

 

Now, you barely knew anything about the small creatures that had been around for a while. Only that they were small, cute, highly valued, and that they turned to dust when they died.

 

Bitty dust was sort of shimmery, not very, but slightly. Like if the light hit it right it would shine dully.

 

Needless to say, you had seen enough bitty deaths to tell the difference. ~~For some reason that felt wrong.~~

 

It was a pity humans had used the cute, valuable little things for fights. You figured humans beating each other to a pulp was enough, and saw no reason why they involved the creatures.

 

Still staring at the enclosure, you noticed a splash of color in the otherwise grey pen. And curiosity had you moving forward before you could really decide otherwise.

 

You advanced cautiously, still keeping an ear out for the sirens, which for some reason had stopped. Eerie silence now reigning in the large building.

 

Tugging your damp shirt over your mouth and bloody nose you pulled the door to cage. Scowling angrily when it clattered loudly against a lock.

 

Great, you needed a key.

 

Which you figured you would not find anywhere near.

 

Your eyes quickly searched the room, looking for anything that could damage the lock enough to open it.

 

Luckily, it looked like someone had dropped a microphone close by, which was probably used to announce the wins and defeats over the loud shouting.

 

You pulled it from the plug and were satisfied when you weighed it in your hand. It was one of those heavy duty metal ones, perfect.

 

The lock wasn’t a heavy duty lock, in fact, it almost looked like one you could buy at a cheap rip off store or something like that , so when you smashed the microphone against it, it broke easily and fell to the ground with a loud thud.

 

The loud smash of metal against metal rang out, and you were reminded again of how quiet everything had gotten.

 

That…...was not a good sign. In fact, it was a very, very bad sign for you.

 

If there was anyone in the building, you had just most assuredly gave them your position. Which meant that if you wanted to not be found ,and most likely arrested, or shot on the spot, you had to hurry your ass up.

 

Tossing the door aside, you held the microphone in front of you, figuring you could use it to bash whatever was in the pen if it tried to attack you.

 

You kept your shirt over your nose, not wanting to inhale what was now the remains of creatures, and with steps full of caution you moved to the colors you saw.

 

It was small and you had an inkling of a guess of what it was. But you really, really hoped it wasn’t _that_ . You could deal with anything but _that_ really. You didn’t even know what you would do if it was what you thought it was.

 

Unfortunately for you, a small skeletal face peeked over at you from under the cloth on the ground, and a growl froze your movements.

 

This…..was not ideal.

 

………...Now what?


	2. Ava the goblin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- curses, mentions of blood, mentioned child neglect, etc.

You didn’t have time to think. 

 

You could hear hurried footsteps rushing through the almost deathly silent building. An occasional shout or thud echoing through the rooms. 

 

Rushing forward, you flipped the cloth, the small bitty not having expected that and letting out a cry when the cloth was ripped away from it. 

 

It looked injured, and it cradled another bitty close to its chest, glowering at you while trying to stand. 

 

Shit! You heard someone coming your way!

  
  


You tripped it onto the cloth, its grip tightening on the other bitty and another growl leaving it. 

 

It tried to bite you, but you were quick to close up the cloth around it before it could. 

 

Clutching the makeshift bag you darted out of the small ring, leaping up to a window and peering into the dark night, preparing yourself to jump from the ridiculous height. 

 

You figured you could make it, you just had to convince your sore limbs that you could.

 

A shout from behind you caused you to look over your shoulder. 

 

There was a policeman there, aiming a gun in your direction and barking orders at you. 

 

“STOP!! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!!” 

 

You tugged your shirt higher onto your face and looked out the window again, trying to decide which course of action would be best. 

 

You never got the chance to choose. 

 

A stinging pain exploded in your right arm as a gunshot rang through the room, and a scream of pain escaped you before you tumbled forward and out the window. 

 

Clutching the bag tightly you curled yourself to land in a roll, Trying to keep the bag from slamming against the ground. 

 

The pain in your arm screeched at you when you did, biting your lip, you tried not to let another howl of agony escape you. 

 

Grunting, you pushed yourself up and quickly looked back up at the window you had fell from, it honestly wasn’t that high, but still quite a fall. 

 

You saw the silhouette of the policeman that shot you and let out a loud curse at him as he aimed at you once again. Before he could shoot, you took off running to the back of the building, zig-zagging so that there was less of a chance he could injure you again. 

 

The dark of the night shielded you from his eyes, and you let out a muttered thanks to nobody in particular, as you sprinted away from the blue wearing dickweeds. 

 

As soon as you rounded the corner, you heard shouts and people yelling loudly to each other. And you caught a loud command that sounded something like “HEAD TO THE BACK!”

 

That caused your legs to pump faster, trying to dash away before anyone could catch you. 

 

Spotting the empty streets and dozens of alleyways spurred you on, freedom being so close, yet feeling so far away. 

 

The shouting grew closer, causing your heart to hammer faster in your chest. 

 

You were close, 10 feet away from the opening of an alley. You slammed your feet against the ground, urging yourself to go faster. 

 

Another gunshot rang out from behind you and you ducked low , taking a sharp turn into the alley, your feet slid against the ground, and you stumbled like a drunk idiot before righting yourself.  

 

A startled laugh left you as you dashed through the alleys. Your lungs screaming and cursing at you, but your legs refusing to slow down. Which was fine really, the farther you got, the less likely you were to get caught. 

 

You lost track of time as you ran, the dark night providing glorious cover as you scampered from one alley to the other.

 

A feeling of being something akin to a rat made you snort stupidly as you slowed down your sprint into a slow stroll. 

 

And a stupid, self mocking, grin remained on your face as you continued on your way past the dirty trash and grimy addicts hiding in the shadows. 

 

You were fine, you made it out. 

 

Of course you made it out with a wound that throbbed in pain, and would perhaps put you out of the ring for a while, but hopefully you would get that fixed soon. You’d look at it when you got home. 

 

The high of the adrenaline rush felt wonderful and mostly drowned out the pain anyway. 

 

You still had the cloth clutched in a hand tightly and couldn’t help but start to wonder what in the world you were doing with it. 

 

Why had you taken the bitties? You could have just left them there. Then again, they were quite expensive, so perhaps you could pawn them off or something like that. 

 

Yea! That was a good idea! You could get a few extra bucks to make up for the interruption of your fight tonight!

 

You mentally patted yourself on the back for your previous actions and brilliant idea. At least it meant you wouldn’t miss the rent, or go hungry for the week. 

 

A sick unease made itself known, but you shook it off as you trekked to your apartment. You needed the money  ~~Did you though?~~ , there was no reason to feel guilty for selling expensive pets you just happened to find.  ~~ Then why did you feel your sins crawling on your back? ~~

 

When you finally reached the rundown part of town, your tensed shoulders slumped slightly in relief. 

 

It was unlikely that the cops would come this way at all. 

 

Hoots and laughs filled the streets, screams and shouting rang through the thin walls of crummy buildings, and you grinned in bitter contentment as you got closer to “home” . 

 

You sped up , trying to drown out the negative thoughts that made themselves known as you strolled by an alley that emanated mocking laughter and loud pleas of mercy. 

 

It wasn’t your business, best stay out of it.  ~~You felt something inside you die a little when you continued to ignore cries for help~~.

 

Finally, you reached your building. 

 

And a sad, almost comforting feeling sagged you down as you ducked into the back alleyway of the building. 

 

Trudging past the heaps of trash, you hefted yourself up onto a large dumpster, hoping that the lid wouldn’t crumble inward as you reached upward and snagged the fire escape ladder. 

 

You tugged the ladder down harshly, cursing softly under your breath as your arm protested and cried in pain. 

 

The loud clattering of rusty metal grated on your ears, and a disgruntled scowl curled your brow. Hopefully nobody heard that, but with the loud sounds of the city night you doubted anybody would care. 

 

With a deep sigh you pulled yourself upward, careful to not jostle the bag to much as you pulled yourself up. 

 

Your boots met the metal flooring with a loud clang than rattled the unsteady landing, and you ground your teeth together in annoyance as the ladder clattered back up. 

 

You muttered quietly in irritation of how your night had taken a turn for the worse. 

 

The previous events starting to soil your mood as you continued to replay them in your head. 

 

If you had left the damned bitties in that cage, you wouldn’t have been shot. 

 

If you had beat that giant idiot into a pulp faster, you would have gotten paid before the police showed up. 

 

If you had saved a little bit of extra cash, you wouldn’t have had to walk all the way home. 

 

The “if’s” of the situation made your irritation grow. And a rude profanity yelled at you through a window, made you realize you had begun stomping your way up the rickety steps. 

 

You yelled back through the window and flipped the bird at the interrupter. Nonetheless, you softened your steps and took care not to create too much noise as you sulked your way upward. 

 

As soon as you reached the 4th floor, you pried your window open and tumbled into your bleak apartment. Cursing when your legs tangled and you stumbled over yourself. 

 

You let your gaze run through the small apartment, briefly noting that everything was still there and confirming that nobody had stolen anything while you were out. 

 

Now, when you thought small, you thought small enough that it wasn’t entirely proper size for even just one person to live in comfortably. 

 

It was a shoe-box really, just one room that had a joined kitchen and living room. No bedroom, and a bathroom barely big enough to fit its shower and other utilities. 

 

And it was currently a huge mess, clothes scattered on the table and in corners, the trash far too full to be even considered past time to take it out, and the couch loaded with blankets you couldn’t remember ever washing. 

 

You knew it wasn’t the best, hell, you knew it was barely anything. But it was at least something. You had a feeling it was far past the time that you had to clean. 

 

Eh, later. 

 

When you successfully locked the window, exhaustion hit you like a truck. Your steps lagging and legs trembling with all the running you had done. Again, you cursed the world for your unlucky night, and dragged yourself to the fridge to find something to eat. 

 

Pulling out a cold pizza, you tossed the box onto the messy table and stuffed a piece into your mouth. Finding your thoughts wandering as you stared down at the cloth in your hand. 

 

You munched on your pizza and hummed in thought. 

 

Could bitties eat human food? Didn’t they need magic or something to sustain themselves? Hadn’t one of the bitties been injured?

 

You let the pizza slice hang from your mouth as you cleared a spot on your table, You needed to check if the bitties were too damaged to sell. And if they were damaged, find a way to fix them up so you could get a good price on them.  

 

Just as you were about to settle the cloth carefully on the table, a series of loud, obnoxious knocks sounded from your door. 

 

Letting out a dramatic groan, you slumped over to your door. Munching grumpily on your pathetic pizza as you peeked out the peephole. You rolled your eyes at the small child you saw standing outside your door. 

 

And with a huff, you yanked it open, leaning heavily on the door-frame as the little runt beamed up at you with a silly grin. 

 

You hid a small smile behind your last bite of pizza. 

 

“What da you want kid?” 

 

Your little neighbor, Ava, snickered mischievously and bounced into your apartment. 

 

“Awee! Don’t be that way!! I just wanna hang out!” She giggled again and skipped over to the table, ignoring your low growl as she bit into a slice of  _ your _ pizza. 

 

You kicked the door closed lazily, your eyes studying the small girl for anything that might be out of place.   

 

“How’d ya know I was home?” 

 

Ava was a cute little goblin, Or at least you thought so. Eh, as far as kids went she was pretty okay, especially for a annoying 11 year old. 

 

Her big brown eyes and curly hair reminded you of someone you were fond of a long time ago, and as a result, you found you often couldn’t tell her no. 

 

Which was good for her really, seeing as how her parents were total ass-hats who didn’t give two flying shits about her. It mostly left you to keep the little bugger out of trouble. And you kinda sucked at that, seeing as how you were gone most of the time. 

 

You felt slightly bad about that, but she wasn’t your kid so you tried to not think about it too much. 

 

Ava tapped the wall while stuffing another pizza slice into her mouth. 

“Ah walsh r bewwy thin,” 

 

A scowl found its way onto your face “Don’t speak with your mouth full,” 

 

She simply shrugged at you, pushing the pizza box away from herself and reaching for the remote. 

 

With an extra dramatic groan, you let yourself fall into the couch. Which caused your injured arm to bounce around, which caused you to yelp in pain and curse the gods that had abandoned this world. 

 

And all that led to Ava scolding you like a mother hen as she cleaned up your arm, getting unsurprisingly well at tending to your wounds. 

 

“It’s good that it’s only a graze, you dumb-nut,” She clicked her tongue at you and pinched right above the wound. 

 

You bit back a string of curses and settled for glowering at her as she dabbed the blood off your arm with a drenched rag. 

 

“Did someone break your nose too? I thought you were good with fighting!” 

 

You let out a grumble as you blindly wiped the blood off your face, which she just laughed at. 

 

Often you were surprised by how mature she acted, but you supposed trauma caused her childhood to end faster than normal. She was sort of like you in that way. 

 

Again you eyes roamed over her small form, trying to find what you already knew was there. When you did find them, your brown knit, and you let out a unpleasant rumble before pinching her cheek. 

 

“ Where did you win those bruises from?” you glared at the bruises on her tiny neck, as if it would make them fade away. 

 

It was no surprise to you that she had new bruises, she was always getting into a scuffle with someone. Still, you didn’t like it very much. But you supposed that you weren’t one to judge, your jobs literally causing injury on a daily basis and all. 

 

Ava brought a small hand to rub against her neck, humming softly as she continued to clean your arm. 

 

She giggled and brushed the same hand against your own neck, unintentionally tensing when she did. 

 

“We match!” She said with sarcastic glee, and you rolled your eyes in response. 

 

You had almost forgotten about the bruises around your neck.

 

“Some dumb idiot at school thought it was a good idea to steal my lunch!” She huffed and dried your arm, grabbing a roll of bandages to cover your graze. 

 

“But! I used a few of the moves you taught me on him! He won’t be bothering me anytime soon!” Her chest puffed out proudly, a triumphant grin on her face as she wrapped your arm, being careful to not tighten it too much. 

 

Chuckles bounced your shoulders, and you shook your head as a proud smile stretched across your face. You couldn’t always be there for Ava, but at least you were helping in some way.  ~~ It never feel like enough ~~

 

“Say-” Ava paused, securing the bandage and motioning to the cloth you still clutched in your hand. 

 

“What's with that?” 

 

For some reason a deep unease locked up your shoulders, a sigh of displeasure whooshing out of you. Both not seeming to be your own actions. 

 

Seeing the weird look on Ava's face had you forcing nonchalance, an easy grin dominating your face as you leaned back into the couch. Trying not to panic over the weird reaction you had to her question.

 

Holding the bag up to her face, you shook it gently, small particles of dust drifting down from the cloth as you did. 

 

“This? Just my gross, sweat covered clothes. Wanna take care of em for me?” your voice came out as a coaxing purr as you pushed the cloth farther her way, trying to dump the bag into her hands. 

 

You didn’t know exactly why you weren’t telling her the truth, But it felt like you were doing the right thing. So you continued with your plan, enjoying the moment her little nose scrunched up in disgust as she pushed herself away to avoid the bag as though it carried the plague. 

 

“No way! Take care of your disgusting junk yourself!” Ava dodged your hand and bounced over the back of the couch. 

 

Successfully deterring that line of questioning, you happily leaned back into a slouch, switching on the old tv and flipping through the channels. 

 

“So why don’t you take care of them already?” 

 

Apparently Ava decided that that conversation was not over. 

 

You rose a brow at her, her curious eyes peeking over the edge of the couch at you. 

 

“Uhhhhh,” the flashing of the screen helped delay your answer as you continued to look for a good movie to watch. 

 

“Cuz I don’t want to?” a grim chuckle left you, and you narrowed your eyes at her. 

 

“I’ma adult, I can do whatever the heck I want,” You turned your attention back to the screen, still trying to find a not so shitty movie to waste a few hours on. 

 

A scoff came from Ava as she bounced back onto the couch, her eyes rolling hugely as she settled in next to you. 

 

“Could have fooled me, You act more like a kid than I do,” Her sassy remark was met with booming laughter that echoed from you, and you clutched at our stomach weakly to try and soothe the aches that were building up. 

 

You absolutely loved when this tiny human used sass so expertly, especially if it was on you. 

 

Wiping a tear from the corner of your eye, you smiled softly down at her. Ruffling her short hair with fondness when you answered.

 

“ Ya ain’t wrong there kiddo.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	3. The Aggressive and The Half-dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING- Curses, mentioned child neglect/abuse, mentions of blood, etc. 
> 
> You have been warned, proceed if you wish.

About halfway through a deep and mildly exciting Mexican drama, A loud shouting bellowed for Ava from across the hall. You recognized it as her shitty Dad, and scowled when Ava winced at his screeching.

 

“AVA! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!”

 

Great, he sounded drunk. Again.

 

Before Ava could slink off the couch, you gripped her arm. Pulling her close to you so you could whisper to her.

 

You pressed her close to you, not willing to let the traitorously thin walls hear your next words.

 

“You don’t have to listen to him Ava,” You whispered quietly, though you tried not to seem as though you cared too much about the little brat...the truth was that you did.

 

Your eyes darted around, as though someone would pop up out of nowhere and accuse you of growing soft.

 

“If he’s gonna hurt you, you can stay here,” You pulled away from her slightly, to try and look into her eyes and try and see if she would refuse you again.

 

You were met with a carefully placed mask that had your insides roiling unpleasantly.

 

Every time you told her she would be safe with you, you were met with that mask. The one that gave nothing away, the one that dozens of business men tried to perfect through their life.

 

And every time you saw it on her, you're almost nonexistent hope for helping her dwindled down even further.

 

You weren’t an idiot, nor were you deaf. Every day you could hear the angry shouts from Ava's parents. Their abusive words cutting deep into you every time you thought of the small child facing them alone.

 

After you had pestered her about it for a while, she had insisted that they hadn’t ever laid a hand on her. They never touched her, never beat her. But with the increasing bruises and scratches left on the child, you found that you doubted her.

 

On numerous occasions you had offered a safe place to her, trying to get her to stay away from the humans who saw her as less than them. And she continued to refuse you. She told you it wouldn’t matter much, seeing as how her parents would immediately guess where she went and probably call the cops on “your broke, and dumb ass,” as she so politely put it.

 

And every time, you found yourself backing down. Convincing yourself that if she didn’t want your help, that she didn’t need it. Telling yourself that it wasn’t your business how your neighbors raised their kid anyways. ~~The feeling of self disgust almost seemed to crush you when you managed to convince yourself of those things.~~

 

Ava slowly pulled her arm from your grasp, smiling fakely at you and patting your cheek softly.

 

“I’ll be fine y/n,” she booped your nose, a scowl forming onto your face at her carefree action at the moment.

 

Ava giggled quietly, meeting your unconvinced stare with a bleak gaze, one that spoke numerous truths in a second. But before you could analyze those truths, her mask was back in place. A plastic smile on her face as she left your apartment, away to face her demons that called themselves her caretakers.

 

Her presence was immediately missed, and you cursed at yourself for being so useless. For not knowing how to help her, For not doing anything to help her.   ~~But then again, when was the last time you actually helped someone?~~

 

You shook that thought away, turning your attention to the bag that you still clutched tightly in your hand.

 

In truth, you hadn't let it go once. And because of that, you thought that Ava realized it was more than “dirty laundry” as you had said. She had kindly ignored your steel grip on the cloth, and had instead rambled to you about how school was going.

 

Relaxing your grip, you tried to think of a reason as to why you didn’t want to tell Ava what you really had.

 

But you chalked it up to not trusting anyone really. After all, what if she let it slip that you had come across someones ridiculously expensive pets?

 

Yea, that must be it. No other reason. None at all. ~~Though you felt like you were lying to yourself~~

 

Carefully you settled the bag onto your lap, taking care to not jostle it around to much.

 

And you cautiously undid the knot at the top, making your movements slow so as to not provoke anything unnecessary.

 

As the top slipped past your fingers, something shot itself at your face.

 

You barely dodged properly,  earning yourself a scratch across your cheek that instantly started oozing blood.

 

Cursing quietly, you quickly closed up the bag again. But your tiny attacker continued his ambush.

 

Your hands were dug into by needles, the bag starting to rip apart from the holes which now decorated it.

 

Pushing yourself off your couch, you tried to not drop the disintegrating bag. Which was easier said than done. It almost felt like you were trying to juggle with knives and melting clothes. And failing miserably.

 

“MOther of FRIDAY! Can you NOT!?!” you tried to not release the bag as more pinpricks started to shred into your skin.

 

Due to your line of work, you were used to pain. But it didn’t mean you liked having to put it with it, especially when it was going to interfere with your job later on.

 

You brought your hands close together, hoping to trap the tiny assailant, and you sighed in relief when the sharpened bones started to vanish as you gripped the small skeletons in your hands. It was odd to have such a small creature trying to harm you, and succeeding in a way.

 

A different, sharper kind of pain buried itself into your left hand. Hissing sharply, you almost dropped the little beast then and there. But you kept your grip steady, not wanting to cause further injury nor wanting to lose the thing.

 

Taking deep breaths, you continued to the table, ignoring the pain between your thumb and index as best you could.

 

It seemed that the bitty thought you were looking for a fight. That thought almost had you giggling in amusement, however, the still present pain of its numerous fangs digging into your hand reminded you that it was currently giving you quite a nasty bite.

 

Carefully shaking the mangled cloth off your right hand, you tried to see why the other one wasn’t acting up. Only to be greeted with a bitty who had strange, dull orange stuff leaking from its closed sockets. It was unusually limp in your hand when compared to the other struggling bitty.

 

You did not like the look of that. At all.

 

Was it sick? Was that a sort of blood or something? Was it gonna die? Why was it so limp?

 

You didn’t think just selling one bitty was going to cover your bills for the month.

 

Bringing the damaged bitty closer to your face, you tried to inspect it for any obvious signs of discomfort.  

 

Almost dropping it in surprise when its eye sockets…... Opened???

 

Its sockets were eerily blank and seeming to stare off at nothing. Didn’t these guys usually have like, cute little lights or something so that they didn’t look like the embodiment of a tiny death???

 

Unnerved, and knowing that it wouldn’t try and run, you carefully placed the leaking bitty on the table. Frowning in ~~concern~~ displeasure when it’s droopy body slumped onto its side heavily. It wasn’t even trying to get away, or do anything really. Unlike the still wiggling one in your grasp.

 

You hoped it wasn’t dying.

 

The pain in your hand lessened when you felt the bitty's fangs release your hand, as you reached into a cupboard to try and find something to place them into.

 

A strangled sound left you when you felt something dig harshly into the exposed wound on your hand. Your knees buckled and you slouched heavily on a cupboard as you sucked in a breath, trying to not to release the fighting bitty.

 

Enough was enough however, and you quickly yanked a glass off of the cupboard before plopping the remaining cloth into it with the meaner bitty. Flipping it upside down and placing a thick, random book you had laying around on top of it.

 

Somewhat having the sadistic enjoyment of watching the small thing wrestle from beneath the cloth as you cradled your bleeding hand.

 

Shoving your hand under the tap, you let it wash the blood away as you turned your attention back to the bitty who looked more or less like it was dying.

 

It was still laying on the table, but now you could faintly see dim lights in its sockets as it stared blankly at the glass that contained the other bitty.

 

The stinging of your hand brought your attention back to it. It didn’t look too bad, which was really just you telling yourself that you’ve had worse and that you would survive.

 

Pulling a random shirt off the table, you carelessly wrapped it around your hand and plopped yourself onto a chair, scooting it close to further inspect the sick bitty.

 

Its dim lights flickered over to you before they extinguished. You felt that that wasn’t a very good sign.

 

Your eyes caught on a crack running through its tibia, and you brought a hand up to push the rags it was wearing aside so you could further inspect it.

 

Only to pause when a pathetically sad grumble left it.

Was ….was that supposed to be a growl or something?

 

You blinked at the bitty and brought you hand slightly closer, it let out another pitiful growl.

 

“Oh really?” you huffed at it and softly nudged it onto its back, ignoring its warning snarls as you inspected its strange, bare skeletal leg.

 

It growled again when you carefully lifted its arms, seeing another break across its left  humerus.

 

“Yea , yea, I get it. You're a tough one, don’t need no help from nobody,”

 

You froze when your eyes fell upon its tiny face.

 

It sported a long scar down through its right eye, its skull carrying various sharp teeth and two, rather long, sharp fangs. A golden one taking place where it has lost one.

 

You couldn’t ever recall seeing this brand of bitty anywhere.

 

Which you weren't sure if was a good thing, or a bad thing.

 

A strange sound caught your attention, and you noticed the more aggressive bitty had finally managed to escape the cloth. Thudding its hands desperately against the glass, its body shaking unsteadily.

 

Shit! Did these guys need air?!  

 

You shoot off your chair, knocking the glass to the side and quickly wrapping the ragged cloth around the bitty as it gulped heavily for air.

 

Which made no sense! Cuz they didn’t have lungs!

 

Tying the cloth carefully around the bitty had it looking like a small burrito, a small burrito that was glaring up at you with hate filled eyelights that burned a lot brighter than you thought was necessary.

 

“You don’t have lungs!! How was I supposed to know?!” You felt guilt, but you’d be damned if you would ever admit it.

 

Its expression changed, looking at you as if you were an idiot who was worth less than the scum of the earth.

 

Which was probably true, but it didn’t need to show you that it knew you were.

 

Huffing angrily, you placed it onto the table, farther from the other one, and fell back into your chair. Your head tilting back so you were staring upside down out your window, the lights of the street below shining dully upward.

 

“It’s a damned skeleton, it doesn't fucking _have_ lungs,” you muttered under your breath, and bewilderment had your mind go blank.

 

Wait….had it actually looked at you like _that_? It was a freaking pet!

 

Your eyes ran over the tiny beings, who were both completely ignoring you. The one you had wrapped up wiggling across the table to try and get closer to the other one, who made no effort to move from its spot.

 

Or who couldn’t move.

 

Eh, whatever. They were just like dogs or something, pets who could do a few things. Like get angry at someone.

 

Wait, could they?

 

You pondered that thought for a moment, and decided that yes, yes they could. Because cats existed and regularly expressed anger towards many individuals if they did something they didn’t like. Dogs too, and horses, birds, ect. The list went on.

 

For fucks sake, you really needed to study up on bitties.

 

“Welp, this is gonna be fun,” You said dryly, watching the tiny, angry bitty roll closer to the limp, half dead one.

 

…...And not talk to them as though they were humans, you didn’t think you were that lonely.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yuay, finally, another chapter. 
> 
> Let me know what you think? How I can improve or make it better, I love reading your comments :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- Swears, thievery, super long chapter that is super slow paced, etc, etc. 
> 
> Continue if you wish

You nearly laughed when the burrito wrapped bitty almost rolled off the table. But suppressed it so that only a small snort left you. 

 

Which the bitty glared up at you for, as if knowing that you were finding amusement in its unfortunate circumstance. 

 

…...which was sort of true, but you felt you had a little bit of a right due to it's ruthless attacks on you. 

 

So it could stare at you like you ruined it's life all he wanted, for the time being you would find amusement in it's misfortune. 

 

You again ignored the growls which both bitties now aimed at you as you reached for the limp one. Searching it and trying to find the extent of it's injuries. 

 

A low hiss left you when you lifted the rags away from it's ribs, finding many of them cracked and damaged beyond what you thought could be salvageable. 

 

It looked like they were barely keeping themselves from falling apart. 

 

“Shittttt,” You cursed, dropping your head into your hand as you thought of what to do. 

 

You were no expert in the bitty field, that was for sure. Perhaps you could treat the breaks mostly the same way as a humans? 

 

It wasn’t much of an idea, but at least it was worth a shot. 

 

You might have to go to the store for a few things. 

 

Muttering while cursing your luck, you pushed yourself away from the table. Scanning the room for the first aid kit that Ava had used a few minutes ago. 

 

You found it tossed to the side of the couch, its contents carelessly strewn about. Man, you seriously needed to teach that kid to put stuff away when she used it. 

 

Another glance around the room had you ignoring everything strewn about. Telling yourself it was fine because you were a freaking adult who did whatever in the heck you wanted. 

 

Gathering the supplies up, you turned back to the table. Nearly dropping everything when you saw the injured bitty trying to push itself up. 

 

You rushed over, gently bumping the bitty over with one of your fingers and lowering it carefully back onto the tables surface. 

 

Ignoring every little pitiful growl that left it as you did. 

 

Despite it being as beat up was it was, it seemed to want to fight you. What a dumb little thing. 

 

You pulled out some bandages from the kit, some scissors, and…...you didn’t have anything for a makeshift splint in there. 

 

“Are you serious right now?” You dug deeper through the box, tilting everything out when you got frustrated enough. 

 

There was still nothing that could be used as a splint in the pile of stuff now scattered on the table. 

 

You furrowed your brow in thought, trying to remember if you had anything laying around that you could use. 

 

An idea popped into your head, and you hoped you still had those somewhere.  

 

What were they called? Cotton swabs? 

 

Perhaps you still had some in the bathroom somewhere. Hopefully Ava hadn’t decided to borrow them again. 

 

Not wanting to risk letting the injured bitty further damage itself, you carefully picked it up, cradling it’s cold boney body in your hand as best you could. It was then you actually realized how small it was. Its small body was barely as big as your hand, The bones feeling unbelievably fragile and tiny in your palm. 

Hundreds of moments when you were clumsy flashed in your minds eye, and you unintentionally tensed to make sure that this wouldn’t turn into one of them. 

 

The aggressive one doubled it's efforts to wiggle free, mildly surprising you and causing you to raise your brows at it. 

 

Slightly impressed with its vigor, but not wanting to show it, you scoffed at the display of desperation. 

 

“Relax tiny, I am not going to do anything,” And there you went again, talking to it as though it would actually understand you. 

 

You rolled your eyes at yourself as you reached the bathroom, still carefully cradling the bitty in your hand. Who for some reason thought it was a good idea to try and bite you. 

 

However, every time he tried to shift himself to nip you, you just nudged him back with your thumb. 

It was funny really. How desperately they seemed to want to defy you, especially when you hadn’t even done anything. It was like they thought you were going to deliberately hurt them or do something horrid. 

 

The thought stalled your movements as you dug through the cupboard under the sink, still searching for a cotton swab.  

 

If they acted as though your very presence was a threat, then they must have had to deal with many humans who acted as a threat to them. The very idea of someone deliberately hurting the small creatures had you scowling and muttering in frustration, tossing items from the cupboard and over your shoulder as you grew more irritated with your train of thought. 

 

It didn’t make sense that someone would harm such small creatures on purpose, then again, you had seen how well bitties fought in the ring. The fights you had watched had always been more interesting that normal human brawls. 

 

With a frustrated growl, you tossed the last towel out, no cotton swabs being found in your search. Which was fantastic, because that meant you had to go out, and spend money that you seriously didn’t entirely have. 

 

You groaned as you pushed yourself off your knees, being careful not to jostle your hand around too much. A glance at the bitty revealed that its sockets were closed again, its tiny chest moving far slower than what you thought it was supposed to as it wheezed with each breath. 

 

That had the complaints knocked out of you. After all, you really didn’t think selling only one bitty would be enough for anything this month. You had to make sure they both survived. 

  
  


Exiting the now trashed bathroom, you searched for your coat, trying to remember if you left it on the table, or by the couch, or if you even had a coat anymore. 

 

Five minutes of searching had you giving up, tossing on a random hoodie you had found instead with muttered curses at your carelessness. 

 

It was getting far too cold at night to wander around without a coat, you would have to get one soon. 

  
  


Which was just another thing to add to your impossibly long list of things to get done. You seriously needed to get them done….later. 

 

Pulling on a sick mask to hide the few bruises on your jaw and nose, you carefully poked at your nose, sighing in relief as you determined that it didn’t feel like a serious break. 

 

You carefully deposited the injured bitty into your hoodies pocket, slipping it gently of your hand, not wanting to jostle it too much and risking turning it into dust. 

 

Now came the harder part. 

 

You narrowed your eyes at the bitty on the table, trying to decide how you were going to safely put it in your pocket without causing further injury to you, or the other bitty. 

 

It surprisingly narrowed its sockets right back at you, as if challenging you to pick it up and do something. 

 

Moments passed, and you still didn’t have a good idea. And so, with a somewhat defeated sigh, you decided to heck with it. 

 

If it bit you, it bit you, you would surely survive. 

 

Moving slowly, you approached the table. Keeping your movements fluid as to not jostle the one in your pocket around. 

 

The bitty only watched your approach, making no noise or movement to suggest it would attack again. 

 

Cautiously, you picked it up. An annoyed scowl settled onto its face, but it made no movements to bite you, so you counted it was a win. 

 

Then you proceeded to place it in your pocket with the other, taking care to make sure that they didn’t end up squished or entirely uncomfortable in a way. 

 

With that done, you searched around for a bag, finding a backpack you couldn’t ever recall getting, you pulled it on and exited through your window, keeping your movements as gentle as you could. Though you weren’t naive enough to really think it helped with the pain the bitty must be feeling. 

 

Reaching the bottom of the fire escape, you hopped down easily, having done it hundreds of times before. 

 

Your bumps and bruises pricked painfully, your head spinning slightly, causing you to stumble a few steps before you properly straightened out. 

 

Hopefully nobody saw that. 

 

Your eyes landed on a cat that sat on top of a metal trash can, its grey eyes piercing into you and causing unease to narrow your eyes at it. 

 

With a flutter of your hand you shooed it away. Adding a few “Shoo’s” as though it would actually listen. 

 

Instead of scampering away, it purred loudly, hoping down from it perch and meandering towards you as though you had begged it to get closer.   

 

Glaring at it, as though it would sense your displeasure and scurry away , you huffed and skittered around it. Trying your best not to let it get too close to you. 

 

After passing by it, you tugged your hood onto your head, trying to remember where that one store where they sold cotton swabs was at. 

 

Pulling your wallet out of your back pocket, you sifted through it. Only coming up with a measly $30.00…...That wouldn’t buy much. 

 

You also had to buy bitty things, Clothes so you could sell them at higher value, things that...they needed and stuff. 

 

Heck , you didn’t know what bitties needed, all you knew was that they were expensive as hell. 

 

…...Desperate times, called for desperate measures. 

 

Fortunately, you knew how to get a bit of cash easily.

 

Early on in life, you had become quite the skilled pickpocket. It was easy, fun, and got you money to eat. Though you had failed a great many times. 

 

With a shudder, you tried to forget those times, instead looking around for a suitable victim once you reached a more populated area. 

 

It was never a good idea to try and nab a wallet from the rundown part of the city, a lot of people there knew pickpockets tricks and made sure to kindly show anyone they caught consequences that had the pickpocket dreaming of being behind police bars. 

 

Meaning that you would have to walk for about an hour before you could successfully get some dough. 

 

Which is exactly what you wanted to do tonight. It's not like you had already ran yourself ragged when trying to escape the police or anything.  

 

Cursing your rotten luck the entire time, you started making your way farther into the city, trying to avoid anyone else who was roaming the dirty streets with your same idea as you went. 

 

Eventually you came across a very drunk man, his swaying steps and reeking stench curling your lip in disgust. His suit and glittering watch had you hone in on him though, and you casually approached him. Slouching down on yourself when you were passing him. 

 

Then you struck, Turning yourself around and deftly plucking the wallet from his back pocket. Almost scoffing at how easy it was. 

 

You shoved the wallet into your hood, keeping a hand settled on it as you casually continuing on your way. 

 

When you finally ducked into an alley, you were excited to see how much money you had gotten. 

 

Deflating when you opened it to find it filled with only two 20’s and a bunch of credit cards that you didn’t want. 

 

You grumbled and pulled the money out, almost tossing the wallet away before you remembered that you knew someone who would most likely appreciate them. 

 

This meant that your night was far from over. 

 

So you continued, trying to find a crowded area where it would be far easier to continue pick-pocketing. 

 

You headed to the center of the city. Knowing that it was always busy, night or day. 

 

Which was the perfect place to find easy victims. 

 

When you finally reached the city square, you were pleased to find it packed as usual. Though you were less pleased to count out the amount of cops idly watching the crowd with careful eyes.  

 

But you had a mission, a mission you would complete by the end of the night if it killed you…… well not if it killed you really, you had a life to live after all. Even if it was a messed up one. 

 

So with practiced ease, you blended into the crowd, making sure to pull your hood off your head to seem less suspicious. 

 

You bumped along the crowd, swiping wallets from those distracted with their phones, or simply deftly swiping your sticky fingers into their pockets without their notice. You even successfully pulled a few watches from peoples wrists. 

 

Feeling satisfied with the wallets you had taken, you flowed back towards your home, taking care to have placed the wallets where they wouldn’t be nabbed off you. 

 

When you reached an alley that you determined safe, you ducked behind the dumpster, leaning against the dirty wall as you counted up the bills you had won. 

 

It all came to around 300, which was not too bad, considering that not too many people carried cash on them these days. 

 

Pulling all the cards out, you tossed the wallets away into the dumpster. Whistling a pretty tune as you headed to a pharmacy close by. 

 

By the time you reached the pharmacy, the sky was brightening dully. The morning creeping in steadily as minutes passed by. 

 

You checked one of your new watches to see that it was 5:30. A frown tugged your lips down and you scowled as you realized you hadn’t slept at all in the past 24 hours. Which was fantastic, because you had to go to work today. 

 

Hopefully you wouldn't pass out anytime soon. 

 

The bell above the door jingled when you pushed it open, alerting the clerk of your entrance as you strolled in. Beginning the search for cotton swabs, painkillers, and anything that you think you might need. 

 

By the time you had gathered everything, You had painkillers, cotton swabs, calcium supplements, and more bandages. You could never have enough bandages. Also a energy drink that would help you survive the unforgiving day ahead.

 

Honestly, you had no idea how you were going to treat the bitty, but hopefully whatever you did, did something to help.

 

With that being done, you trudged your way back towards home, reminding yourself to stop somewhere to see if you could sell the credit cards anywhere. 

 

You walked for about 30 minutes before you reached the apartment of a guy you knew who bought card information. Often, you came to him to get a few bucks out of stuff you had stolen. 

 

Knocking on the door, you waited, checking a watch again and seeing that it was around 6:40. Still too early for anyone to really be considered alive and about, but you were not going to wait to get those cards sold. 

 

You pounded harder on the door, grinning in satisfaction when someone started shouting curses at you from inside. 

 

“AND DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT TIME-” The door was wrenched open by a man you knew as Travis, his hair disheveled, clothes looking like they were thrown of haphazardly, and deep grooves under his eyes that seemed to be pulling his entire face down. 

 

You gave him a smirk and shot him finger guns. “Travis! My man! How are you doing on this fine and beautiful-” 

 

Before you could finish your sentence, he gripped the front of your hoodie and yanked you inside. Glancing from side to side before he shut the door quietly. 

 

Then he whirled around to you, his scowl deepening and causing a nervous sweet start to build on your brow. 

 

“What.the.fuck. Are you doing here?!” He hissed out, leaning close to you and causing your nose to wrinkle in disgust at the morning breath invading your breathing space. 

 

“Uhhhhh,” You leaned away from him, pulling the plastic cards out of your back pocket to wave around “Want cards?”

 

Travis snatched the cards from your hand with a scowl that could curdle milk, “How many times do I have you tell you!” He stomped over to a drawer and ripped it open angrily, pulling out a pair of scissors and waving them around as he scolded you “Don’t bring me the cards!! Bring me the card information!” 

 

You winced as you watched him cut up the cards, “Awe, come on man! If you didn’t want them I could have sold them somewhere else!” 

 

He rolled his eyes at you and continued to snip away at the handful “Uh, no you couldn’t. Because as soon as people realize that their cards have been stolen they will shut them down. Not only that, but you don’t have the PIN Number. You dumb-ass,” 

 

With a huff, you crossed your arms and glanced away from him, “I could have sold them to a hacker or something…” You muttered, sure that he was still able to hear you. 

 

But he ignored you, stomping his way to the kitchen after motioning for you to follow him. 

 

Begrudgingly, you complied. Dragging your feet as you pouted at your loss of extra cash. 

 

As you entered the kitchen, you flopped yourself on a chair, leaning your head on the table as you watched Travis dig around the cupboards. 

 

You studied him as you did, His fit form never ceased to amaze you. 

 

Travis was old. Well, not really old, but sort of old for surviving in the way he had through life. He was around 40, and yet, he kept himself in pristine shape. Which he told you numerous times was because it helped him run faster from anyone who tried to threaten him. 

 

He sort of took care of you a few years back when you hit a particularly rough patch, he never mentioned it though. Only saying that he did it because you gave him business and that it would be terrible for him to lose even one customer. 

 

His business was one you appreciated. He dealt mostly with information, passing things back and forth between people and the like. But with that, came the danger of powerful people hanging over him, which meant that he never stayed in the same place too long. Lucky for you, you knew how to find him quickly. 

 

Travis dumped a bag on the table, still glaring at you with distaste and muttering things you couldn’t quite catch. 

 

“Here, Someone brought this for you,” He pushed the bag closer to you before turning to ransack the fridge. 

 

You rose a brow at the bag, suspicion instantly bubbling within you as you carefully pulled it closer to yourself. 

 

“What is it?” 

 

A scoff met your question as Travis fell into the chair across from you. 

 

“Sure, don’t open it. Ask your stupid questions instead,” He cracked open a beer, his words making your face fall into a slightly annoyed glare. 

 

“Well, some dude said that there was a police raid or something at the ring?” Surprisingly, he tossed a beer to you, You caught it and motioned for him to continue. 

 

“Said something like that was your money for the fight before hightailing it out of here as fast as he could,” He chuckled and sipped his beer “Probably thought you might have hunt him down if you didn’t get your money,” 

 

With a satisfied hum, you drank heavily from your can, eyeing the bag before opening it fully. The money inside had relief coursing through your veins. With this, you wouldn’t have to search for a buyer for the bitties so quickly. 

 

“By the way,” His words had you looking back to him as you tucked the bag onto your lap “Words going around that someone lost their bitties to the police,” 

 

You tried not to tense. “Oh? Fighting bitties?” 

 

At your words, he rolled his eyes “No, I’m talking about some fucking bitties that people dress up all frilly and shit,” The heavy sarcasm in his words had you smiling slightly. Ahh, the art of sarcasm was wonderful. 

 

“Yes, freaking fighting bitties,” He sighed and took a swig from his beer before continuing “Someone high on the food chain has lost a valuable asset, and that means we down below are gonna get trouble for it,” 

 

With a stiff nod, you tried to ignore the squirming in your pocket, placing a gentle hand on your pocket to try and stop the movement. 

 

“What kind were they?” You needed more information. 

 

Travis curled his brow in thought, leaning back in his chair with a sigh “Hell, something like fell bitties? Swapfells? Fellswaps? Shit if I know, one of the edgier ones. They were real smart too, people said they could talk and all that jazz,” He chuckled, staring off at nothing as though lost in his thoughts. 

 

Meanwhile, you were both ecstatic and panicked. 

 

You had not known that any bitty could talk, the ones you had didn’t seem to talk, perhaps they weren’t the ones that were missing from the oh-so-important person?? But if they were….you were going to have trouble selling them. 

 

“I didn’t know bitties could talk,” 

 

A weird grin stretched across his face “Yeah, a few people claim they can. Some dumb-asses even say that they are just like us,” He laughed and finished off his beer, tossing the can over his shoulder haphazardly. “Can you believe that shit? It's like saying parrots are like humans just cuz they can talk a bit,” 

 

Chuckles bounced his shoulders, but you felt as though this was not laughing matter…...This created a few problems for you. 

 

“Now , My payment. If you would be so kind,” Travis stretched a hand out toward you, a mischievous grin on his face as he waited for you to pay him for information you didn’t even ask for. 

Scowling, and mentally cursing him the entire time, you pulled a few small bills out of the bag in your lap and threw them into his hand. You hated when he did that. But if you didn’t pay him for stupid information you hadn’t really asked for (even though it had helped you in this case), then he wouldn’t give you information later. 

 

You ignored his gleeful grin as he counted the bills. Pushing yourself harshly away from the table, you chugged the rest of the beer down and placed the can on it. Swiping a sleeve across your mouth before giving him a stiff nod and trudging your way out. 

You carefully inserted your hands into your pockets, wincing when you felt familiar, sharp fangs dig into your hand. Grumbling, you curled your hand softly so that it was cupping the small body of the bitty resuming his attack. Trying to ignore the vibrations of the growls you felt shaking your hand slightly. 

 

You just had to make it home.

 

Make it home, Fix up the wounded bitty, and…..figure out what to do with them while you went to work. 

 

Oh right, you also had to find out if these ones could talk. Sounded fun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know much about the bitty AU in all honesty, just kinda winging this.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time you made it home, you were swaying on your feet and trying to not let your eyes fall closed for longer than 3 seconds less you fall asleep. 

 

The act of having gone far too long without sleep was coming back to bite you. 

 

Speaking of biting...You carefully removed your hand from its pocket, snorting in mild amusement when the bitty that had attached itself dangled from your finger. 

 

It hadn’t released you once since you started your trek back home, and you had ignored the annoying sting of its bite. 

 

Though you were sure you were going to lose your finger if you didn’t get it to let go soon. 

 

“Hey,” You wiggled your finger “Let go.” 

 

You felt its teeth sink further into your finger. Looked like asking was not going to help.

 

Cupping your other hand under it, you sat at the table, hoping to find a way to get it to release you. 

 

Inspecting the bitty closer, you saw that it was screwing its face up in disgust, most likely due to the bitter taste of your blood. Ah well, it deserved that. 

 

“Listen,” You rolled your eyes at yourself, not believing that you were actually trying to talk to a pet “I need you to let go so I can help the other….dude.” 

 

Would it be offended if you called it an it? That was something to contemplate later you supposed. 

 

After a hesitation, it surprisingly loosened its hold. Allowing you to pull your finger away and inspect the new bite it had given you. 

 

It didn’t look too bad. 

 

You were eyeing the new sore when you felt the bitty still in your pocket begin to squirm. 

 

Gently pulling him out of your pocket, you inspected him for any new injuries he might have gotten from you moving about, and were relieved when you found none. 

 

With a slight hum, you carefully placed it on the table, pulling off your pack to get everything you needed to help heal it up. Or at least, what you hoped would help heal it. 

 

You poured everything out, delight making you give a hum of satisfaction as you spotted the energy drink you had bought. 

 

You cracked it open and took a deep swig. Now you would be able to survive the day ahead. 

 

Placing the drink to one side, you started sorting through the things you had bought. You quickly opened the cotton swabs, measuring them to the bitty before cutting them down to size for a proper splint. 

 

Then you got the bandage, properly padding it, and taking care of your new bite, before you attached it to its arm. 

 

You worked on a second splint, carefully sizing it to fit properly, and attached that one to its arm. 

 

It was as though you had entered a focused zone. Nothing breaking you out of concentration as you gently measured, cut, and bandaged the bitty together. 

 

As soon as you had the arm and leg done, you let out a sharp exhale, not looking forward to working on its ribs. You didn’t really even know what you were going to do for its ribs. 

 

Rubbing the back of your neck, you leaned back in your chair, contemplating what sort of thing you should do to help heal its ribs. 

 

But your mind turned up blank, all human biology being mostly unhelpful at this point. 

 

You ran your thoughts over all its injuries, Just to give yourself something to think about before fully giving up on its ribs. 

 

It had a fracture on its tibia, which you had already taken care of with a brace, and another break on the proximal of the humerus, which you had also taken care of already. 

 

The only thing left was the ribs, which was the worst injury….which was also the one you didn’t know how to treat. 

 

You rubbed a hand over your face, slumping forward with a defeated sigh as you carefully started wrapping each individual rib. You had to get some tweezers to help you out, and every now and then the bitty would shudder in what you thought was discomfort, but you didn’t know what else to do. 

 

At least this way, its ribs wouldn’t entirely fall apart. ~~Yet~~

 

When you finished, a sense of relief flooded you, which you mostly ignored as you chugged down the rest of your drink. 

 

A glance at your watch revealed that the time had speed by, the time nearing 9 O’clock. Which meant that you had spent a good amount of time caring for the bitty. 

 

Work started at noon, and you believed you could slip a nap in before then, however, you still had to figure out if these things could talk. 

 

You contemplated if you should just stay awake as you pushed yourself up, moving to a cupboard to get some food in you before you had to rush through everything. 

 

One one hand, you had just drank a huge energy drink, which would kick in any moment and have your energy buzzing and feeling like new. One the other hand, you hadn’t slept in over about two days now and knew you would feel like absolute garbage as soon as the energy drink got out of your system. 

  
  


Though, you had already drank the drink, and if you went to sleep now, there was no way you were going to wake up in time for work. 

 

Looked like you were going to have to tough through and stay awake as long as you could.

 

You poured yourself a bowl of cereal before leisurely leaning yourself onto the counter, watching the bitties as you downed your breakfast. 

 

The one you had patched up looked like it was asleep, while the other one was watching you watch it. 

 

Man , you seriously needed to get names from them or something , it was going to get confusing to just call them “it’s” or “you” all the time. 

 

“So, You guys have names or something?” You said, immediately cursing your depleted social skills. 

 

Who on earth said “or something” like some idiot when asking for names? It made no sense!  

 

You hid your face behind your bowl, trying to pretend as though your slip up didn’t matter to you. 

 

As soon as you had finished slurping up the last bit of milk, you tossed the bowl into the sink. The clatter of it meeting its siblings in the sink making you wince as it penetrated the silence.

 

 Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you ignored the aggressive bittys judgmental glare. 

 

The longer he stared at you, the more you thought that they were in fact smarter than they were letting on. Which wasn’t the best news for you. 

 

Whatever, you could deal with problems when they arose. There wasn’t any point thinking about it all now. 

 

You rose a brow at the bitty, not thinking of how dumb you must look talking to a pet. 

 

“No?” You shrugged your shoulders “If not, I can always just give you a name. You know, to not get all confused and whatnot.” Your arms curled around your middle, your mind laughing at your efforts to communicate with the bitty. 

 

“Of course, if you don’t want to tell me your name or anything its understandable..” You trailed off, peering out the window as you waited for it to say something, anything really. 

 

Heck, you would feel a lot lest moronic if it gave a “no” or a “fuck off” instead of it sitting in silence. 

 

You gestured with your chin to the cereal box you had left on the counter “Are you hungry?” 

 

Your question was met with a scoff, which had you narrowing your eyes at the bitty. “Fine, forget I asked,” You muttered, pushing away from the counter as you started picking clothes off the floor and table.

 

You messily started folding them, thinking up a plan as you did. 

 

Work started in a bit, and you didn’t have anywhere to put the bitties. 

 

Which meant you either had to get a sturdy cage, ~~for some reason you despised that idea~~  get someone to help you watch them, or sneak them with you into work. 

 

The first and second ideas had your stomach churning uneasily, and the third would come with a lot of problems that you didn’t know how to deal with. 

 

What if someone saw them in your locker? What if they just up and died in there? You were pretty sure that having a bitty without proper adoption papers and living conditions was a long jail sentence and did not feel like getting in too much trouble. 

 

Pausing your folding, you examined the new injuries on your hands, and carefully pulled the mask off your face to probe gently at your beat up face. 

 

Maybe you could call into work, tell them that you were sick and couldn’t make it. The boss was an easy going guy and he most likely wouldn’t fire you anyways. You also now had enough cash to keep you going for another week or longer. 

 

Having made up your mind, you started looking for your phone in your hazardous apartment. 

 

You cleared the now folded clothes from the table, dropping them into a basket near the door and shuffling over to look under your old couch. 

 

It wasn’t there. Or, maybe it was and you just couldn’t see it because of a bunch of junk blocking your view. 

 

With a grumble, you shoved the light couch aside, sneezing when a cloud of dust flew upwards and dusted your face. 

 

You caught the bitty that was awake jump at your sneeze from the corner of your eye, and would have chuckled had you not been so distracted by the chaos that had just been revealed. 

 

Surprisingly, there had been letters upon letters under your couch. Books you hadn’t ever remembered buying here and there. 

 

You started pulling all the letters together, flicking through them mindlessly as you shoved them on top of your bookshelf. 

 

Most of them weren’t addressed to you, and those you yeeted towards the trash. Only landing 2 successfully into it and having missed with the others. Now you had a letter mess by your trash. Which you would clean...later. 

 

You thumbed through the books, nodding at the few you recognized as you placed them onto your shelf. 

 

By the time all that was done, you were left with a bunch of dust, no phone in sight. 

 

With a discontent grumble, you swept the dust up, pushing your couch back into place as you went back to the kitchen to look there. 

 

You opened all your cupboards, successfully finding it stacked with the dishes. You didn’t remember putting it there. 

 

Flipping the old phone open, which still miraculously had battery, you dialed up your boss, once again staring at the bitties at your table as the phone dial rang in your ear. 

The one sleeping on the table didn’t look too comfortable, and you had the brilliant idea to move it to the couch cushions. 

 

As soon as your hand picked it up, the other one shocked you by breaking out of its cloth prison. 

 

A few bones appeared out of thin air and flew your way, unceremoniously sticking into the wall behind you when you rolled quickly out of the way.You ducked, hitting the ground with your knees and grinding your teeth together as a loud thud echoed through your apartment. 

 

Muttering out curses, you tried to shuffle towards the couch, trying to get to cover before you were turned into a human pincushion by the now loose bitty. 

 

Having your hands occupied didn’t help your crawling at all, and you felt a stabbing pain as something dug into your back. 

 

As if you were just going to sit there and take a beating from a bitty. 

 

Pushing yourself up, you twirled around, spotting the bitty now in one of your still open cupboards as it aimed a few more projectiles at you. 

 

You dodged them, gritting your teeth in annoyance when the phone was finally picked up. 

 

“Hey, this is Y/n,” You noticed the bitties face contort into panic “Yeah I don’t think-Hey! Cut that out!” The bones were now aiming for your phone, making you almost drop it as they sliced up your hand when you unsuccessfully dodged. 

 

“Pardon?” Your bosses voice asked from the phone, sounding properly confused as you glared at the bitty persistently attacking you. 

 

“Um , sorry about that. As I was saying, I don’t think that I’ll be able to make it to work today.” Unknowingly, you backed up into the couch, letting out a squeak of surprise as you tumbled over it. You held the bitty in your hand close to your chest, protecting it so that it wouldn’t dust on you and leave you with less money than what you would like to get. 

 

You landed uncomfortably on the cushions, neck bending at an angle you weren’t sure it was supposed to bend. 

 

“Is...everything alright?” 

 

You wiggled so that you were lying properly on the couch, peeking over the edge and scowling at the bitty who looked like it was laughing at you. 

 

“Yeah, all good, just,” Your voice came out slightly higher than you wanted it to as you ducked, barely dodging a plate that whizzed over you and crashed a little too close to your TV. 

 

“I’m a little sick and won’t be able to make it today, uhm,” You tired to pretend as if there wasn’t the sound of shattering plates loudly echoing through your speaker “I think I’ll be better soon though, so I’ll see you later?” You asked hopefully, wincing as the sound of something heavier hid the ground with a crash. 

 

Had it broken your only mug? You risked a peek over the couch, and yep, it had. Great. 

 

“Alright, thanks for letting me know. I’ll see you in two days Y/n,” Your boss sounded weary, speaking a little too fast and hanging up before you could thank him.

 

Two days was good. 

 

Snapping your phone shut, you tossed it to the side, finally having a hand free to help you stop the chaos that the bitty was causing. 

 

You looked around for anything that would help you capture it, freezing when the loud sounds finally stopped. 

 

Suspicion started prickling through you. 

 

Was it trying to lure you out? 

 

Cautiously, you poked your eyes over the edge of the couch, letting out a huff of laughter when you saw the bitty clumsily jump down from the cupboard. Looked like it had run out of things to throw. 

 

Your silly grin dropped as you realized that meant you would have to go get new plates, the sudden realization had bitter anger souring your thoughts. 

 

Laying the bitty in your hand gently onto the cushions oddly had your anger calm. But not a second later you were vaulting over your couch, Your face set in grim determination as you gained the upper hand on the tiny beast with the fast approach. 

 

The bitty stumbled back, almost tumbling off the table where it had landed. Its surprised expression melted, replacing it with one that matched yours as it rose its hand to launch more bone spears at you. 

 

You dodged expertly, and were soon close enough to the table to execute your plan. 

 

As soon as you saw an opening, you gripped the side of the table, giving the bitty a bitter scowl before you launched the table upwards with a loud “YEET!”. 

 

Time slowed as you watched the table float above you, it almost looked like it would hit the ceiling. 

 

Your plan was put into motion, and you shot under the table to the other side, watching the bitty fly back and off the side as it lost its balance. It let out a startled cry as it did and you felt victory cloud your mind with self satisfaction. 

 

You had to push yourself off the tips of your toes a bit to catch the bitty, and as soon as it landed in your hand you knew you had won. 

 

Unfortunately for you, you seemed to have entirely forgotten about your cupboards. 

 

The moment it clicked that you were going to slam into your uncomfortable cupboards, You curled the bitty close to you, twisting so that your back would receive the blunt of the blow. Just in time to receive the damage you had no way of avoiding. 

 

You crashed into the cupboard, the pathetic wood caving under the hit and crumbling into shambles. 

 

The clang of everything in your cupboard echoed with the backdrop of the table slamming back into the ground. 

 

With a mortified moan, you opened your eyes , taking in the damage that you had done. 

 

There you sat, upon pots, pans, and brittle scraps of wood. Groaning in agony as you tilted your head back to softly thump against the wall. 

 

You were so screwed if your landlord saw this.

 

Perhaps you could fix it before he came for the months rent or decided to just randomly drop by. You picked up a piece of wood you figured had been part of the door, and sighed when it went pitifully limp in your hand. 

 

How the hell didn't you broken it before?

 

What the fuck was it even made out of? Cardboard? 

 

You tossed the broken piece away from you, slumping into yourself as you gazed blankly at your now three-legged table. That was exactly what you needed, more broken furniture. 

 

You winced when you tried to move, the aches in your back and shoulders flooding you and allowing you to realize that it might not be such a good idea to move for a bit. 

 

With a deep sigh, you slowly took your hand away from your chest. Begging whatever deities still existed that the bitty hadn’t dusted from impact. You seriously needed that money now. 

 

You let out a sigh of relief when you saw that it was fine. 

 

Only to curl your brow when you found it staring at you, eyelights having vanished as its blank look passed through you. 

 

“You ok?” You asked, not really knowing why you did. ~~You just felt like you needed to?~~  

 

Its eyelights snapped back on, a deep scowl settling on its face before it tried to hop out of your hand. 

 

You curled your fingers around it just in time to keep it from escaping, and received yet another bite as your reward. 

 

By now your hands were almost covered in bites, and you found annoyance seeping into you as they stung and pricked every time you bent a finger or moved your hand. 

 

Pushing yourself up, you groaned and softly rubbed your back, trying to soothe the aches that felt like they creaked every time you moved. 

 

You hobbled towards the couch, wanting nothing more than to pass out and accept unconsciousness for the next 24 hours if you could. 

 

Of course, you couldn’t go to sleep without putting the bitties somewhere safe and all that jazz.  

 

You slowly looked around your apartment, trying to find anything that would hold them comfortably so you wouldn’t have to worry about them somehow escaping. Though, if you were being entirely honest with yourself, you felt that they wouldn’t be able to get out even if they tried. 

 

Eh, better safe than sorry you supposed.

 

You searched fruitlessly, nothing you could use turning up in the mess of your apartment. Even if you had been sure you had had something around at one point or the other. 

 

With a defeated sigh, you collapsed onto the couch, being careful to not land too near the sleeping bitty as you slumped comfortably down. 

 

You supposed you could just wrap the crazy bitty in another shirt or something, you didn’t entirely know at this point. You just felt so tired, your energy fleeing despite having downed the energy drink. 

 

You pulled your eyelids open, not having noticed when you closed them, and tried to shake yourself awake, convincing yourself that you seriously couldn’t afford losing the bitties as you shoved yourself upward again. 

 

Missing the alarmed grumble coming from your hand as you swayed unsteadily on your feet.  

 

You gave up your search, going back to the kitchen to find a large jar that you could poke holes in. It was better than nothing, even if you  ~~for some reason~~  didn’t think it would hold them properly. 

 

It was somewhat difficult to poke holes into the top of the jar with one hand, but you eventually managed. 

 

Shaking the bitty off your hand and into the jar earned you an enraged glare as you tighten the lid. 

 

You gave the bitty a tired shrug and half-hearted grin as you held the jar up to your face “Sorry, But I can’t exactly have you running around and destroying everything,” 

 

Your response was a huff as the bitty pointedly looked away from you, ignoring your amused chuckles as you carefully carried it with you back to the couch. 

 

For a moment you considered if you should keep the other bitty out of the jar, after all, it hadn’t caused you any trouble whatsoever and was far too wounded to actually move. 

 

But the thought of accidentally squishing it and further injuring it had you picking it up carefully, wondering how on earth you were going to get it in the jar without the other one leaping out and attacking you. 

 

You felt your mind start to fill with clouds that had your inner toddler demanding a nap right NOW, thank you very much! And so, with somewhat of a “fuck it” attitude you unscrewed the top of the jar, quickly yet carefully lowering the sleeping bitty into it. 

 

Surprisingly, the other bitty made no move to attack you, simply opening its arms and clutching the other close as you pulled your hand away. 

 

You closed up the jar again, Hearing quiet mutters coming from the bitty as it inspected the bandaging and braces you had applied to the wounded one. 

 

It moved the other this way and that, gently tugging at the bandaging and giving a small nod as it lifted the rags from it to examine its ribs. 

 

Laying down, you carefully moved the jar to rest upon your chest as you watched the bitty interact with the other. The realization of how important they meant to each other dawning on you when, after finishing checking on the treated injuries, the small bitty curled the larger one into its arms. 

 

The tiny bitties sockets landed on you watching it, and for a brief moment you thought you saw its face color a soft indigo, but it must have been your imagination. 

 

It gave you a nasty snarl and scooted as far away from you as it could in the confines of its jar, which wasn’t much in reality. 

 

You chuckled and gave it a slow wink, finding amusement in its small act of defiance. You sensed a large primal rage seeping from its tiny form as it turned away from you, hunching in on itself as it pulled the lanky one closer to it. 

 

The small smile dropped off your face, an unpleasant feeling making itself known in your stomach. ~~something like dejection~~

 

You ignored it as best you could, letting your eyes drift closed as you gave a tired sigh and fell into sleep.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .........Blep :p


	6. ...........Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- sort of none really??? Um, mentions of scars, sort of dark and dreary mood. Swearing

“-KE UP!” 

 

You curled your brow, not enjoying the sound of your neighbors waking you at all. 

 

Did they always have to be so loud? It was very rude to others if they never let them sleep…

 

Your thoughts started to drift away as you started falling easily back into sleep. 

 

“ARE YOU GOING BACK TO SLEEP?!?! WAKE UP!” An enraged, yet muffled voice had you jolting back awake. Opening your eyes groggily left you leaving you staring up at the cracked ceiling. 

 

Your limbs didn’t feel like they would be able to move, stiff and uncomfortable as you lay on the lumpy couch. 

 

Had someone got in your apartment? No, they couldn’t have, you made sure that everything was locked up before you fell asleep. 

 

You tried to blink the sleep away from your eyes, letting out a small grunt as you stretched your hands over your head. Damn, Everything hurt. It felt like someone had run you over with a steamroller. Not to mention the extra sting of your arm as you stretched. 

 

“WHA- DON’T DO THAT! YOUR GOING TO MAKE US FALL!!” The voice was now extremely annoyed, and you slowly shifted your eyes to the jar balancing on your belly. 

 

Your sight clashed with the tiny bitties, its eyelights burning with rage as it glared up at you at an unflattering angle, and you stared at it. Wondering if you had actually heard that voice or if you were dreaming. 

 

A minute passed, and you felt your eyes gradually slipping back closed. You fought to keep them open, only succeeding in keeping them half lidded as you gazed into space. 

 

Why had you woken up again?

 

“GET! UP! YOU! USELESS!! HUMAN!!” Your eyes flew back open, the bitty having stuck his fist on the glass with every seething word as he yelled at you. 

 

You blinked. 

 

“WELL?!” The bitty folded his arms, tapping his foot impatiently. Sending a weird clinking sound through your mostly silent apartment as his bare foot tinked against the bottom of the jar. 

 

You gradually pushed yourself up, gently shifting the bottle from your lap to the rundown coffee table a little bit away. 

 

You didn’t take your eyes off the bitty the entire time, letting out a sharp exhale when your hands were freed, before promptly burying your face in them. 

 

“You can talk,” You stated more than asked, your words being slightly muffled and croaky. Your brain feeling like it was trudging through muck as it processed what that meant for you. 

 

“AND YOU APPARENTLY HAVE EARS,” He snarked back, and you would have chuckled had you not been so distressed.

 

“This is just great,” Sarcasm colored your words, and you rubbed the sleep away from your eyes, trying to will yourself not to give up on being alive at the moment. 

 

So, you had someones important bitties. Which meant selling them was going to be a huge pain. Were they looking for them? Did they still think the police had them? 

It was fine, you were fine. You were just going to have to put a little more effort into not getting caught and slaughtered. 

You could still get away with this. 

 

With a groan, you lifted your head up. Eyeing the bitty as you rubbed your neck, trying to soothe the aches and strains you could feel. You briefly eyed the other bitty, disappointed to find it still passed out. Hopefully it wasn't already dead. 

 

“So,” You cleared your throat, trying to will the sleepiness away “What's up?” 

 

You mentally face-palmed, wondering where on earth all your conversation skills had disappeared to. 

 

A raised brow from the bitty had your self consciousness prickle at you before you shoved it away. Why did you care what on earth this tiny thing thought of you anyways? 

 

It muttered something too quiet for you to hear, turning away from you with a sulk and glaring hard at the wall from the confines of its prison. 

 

You furrowed your brows, leaning forward on your knees to hear better “What?” 

 

Its lights darted to your face before darting away again, its tiny cheeks puffing out in a way that left you staring in amazement. 

 

How in the world did bone move that way? 

 

Another mutter left it, a deep scowl on its face as it continued to glare at the wall with a hate filled gaze. 

 

You let out a groan and let your head fall onto the short table, a resounding thud bouncing the surface and causing the jar to jostle slightly. 

 

Pain laced through your head from the impact, and you muttered out a curse before tilting your head to the side and rubbing your forehead to stare at the bitty. 

 

Its sockets were widened, the lights in them tiny as it clutched its arms around itself. Perhaps it was surprise, or alarm, you weren’t sure, but that expression on its face didn’t sit well with you. 

 

“I didn’t hear you,” You said, watching the tiny beast snap out of its shocked state and give you another notorious scowl. You had the feeling you would be seeing a lot of those from now on. Well, until you sold them that is. 

 

“I SAID-” It paused, looking like it was trying to make it's mind up about something, and tossed a glance over its shoulder to the still sleeping bitty before returning to scowl at you “WE NEED FOOD,” 

 

Your brain slowly processed the hissed words, when they finally connected in your muddled brain, you gave a slow nod and pushed yourself up. Dragging yourself to the kitchen to look for anything you had. 

 

Before you made it halfway, you realized you hadn’t asked if they could eat human food, and stumbled around to peer at the jar. 

 

“Can you guys eat human stuff?” You almost let loose a groan at your fabulous wording, but held it back and ignored the raised brow you could see from the bitty. 

 

“YES, WE CAN EAT HUMAN ‘STUFF’,” It said, the words sounding impossibly venomous for some reason or the other. 

 

It was your turn to raise a brow, but you simply turned away, opening your fridge to see if you had anything edible at the moment.  

 

You were met with a sadly, mostly desolate fridge, a half filled gallon of milk being the only thing occupying it, and you slowly shut it before starting to rummage through your cupboards. 

 

Didn't you still have crackers somewhere? Cereal perhaps? You swore you still had a few ramen noddle cups somewhere. 

 

Hopefully they hadn’t been in the cupboard that had been reduced to splinters. 

 

You let out a soft ‘Ah-ha!’ when you found the cups, feeling satisfied as you pulled them from the cupboard and started to heat water for them. 

 

Time seemed to drag as you watched the water on the stove, the sudden quiet feeling foreboding, the tick of the clock being the only thing filling the silence. 

 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You could hear the thuds and bangs of your upstairs neighbors moving about, the cars and shouts of people from below, the water starting to bubble as it boiled, and another soft ticking- no, not ticking, more like tinking.

 

The soft tinking of glass against bone. 

 

Which you assumed was the impatient foot of the little beast as he tapped it on his glass floor. 

 

You did not like that sound. 

 

As it continued on, you found a deep hatred for the sound, the constant repetition of it grinding on your nerves, a current, constant reminder that your ~~prisoners~~  merch was not going to be as easily sold as you thought. 

 

Then again, when had life ever given you a break?

 

You scowled at the bitter thought, not wanting to turn into a self pitying human today. You could save that for later, when you didn’t have so much hanging over your head. 

 

Shoving the stupid thoughts aside, you readied the cups, cursing when you picked them up a bit too soon, the water scalding your hands painfully as you snatched them away. 

 

You rubbed your hands, as though it would actually help make the pain vanish faster. And it somewhat did, You guessed it was the thought that sort of counted. 

 

After you spent a sufficient amount of time rubbing your hands together like some creepy cartoony villain, you cautiously picked up the cups once more. Sighing in relief at their relatively cooled down state.  

 

Trying to walk back to the couch without spilling any of the contents out of the cup proved to be a challenge, and you realized you had probably overestimated how much the little bitties could actually eat. 

 

Whatever, you could eat what they didn’t. 

 

You successfully set the cups down, only having split a little bit, and realized that you had no utensils that would fit the tiny hands of the skeletons. 

Your eyes trailed to the still scowling bitty before drifting back to the noodle cup. The cup was bigger than him, and you had sudden concerns that he would drown in an unpredictable fashion. 

 

You kept glancing back and forth, realizing that you also had to let them out to eat and that you did not feel like chasing anything around with how sore you were at the moment. 

 

Which meant that you had to come up with a plan, or willingly trust the little beasts to not scatter as soon as you popped the lid off the jar. 

 

“WELL?” The surprisingly loud bitty asked, his foot having stopped its tapping to better focus a glare on you. 

 

“Uh, right. Um, let me just….” You trailed off, and found yourself starting to zone out, your thoughts fleeing your head and leaving it blank. 

 

God, you were still too tired to deal with this. 

 

“Well, I don’t have anything you can use, so,” You shrugged and leaned down to twist the lid off the jar, watching the bitty carefully as you sat heavily on the couch, “Good luck?” 

 

There was evident surprise on his face, before it was quickly masked with another scowl and a huff of frustration. 

 

“Fuckin Amateur” He muttered, and you felt your mind go even blanker as it processed those words, before a flare of annoyance tickled at you. 

 

“What?” You asked, in a way that was perhaps a little more nonchalant that what was necessary. 

 

The bitties eyelights bored into you as it hopped up and tugged itself out of the jar, never leaving you as it stumbled onto the table and towards the food, never once letting you out of his line of sight. 

 

“I SAID-” He hopped and caught the edge of the noddle cup, pulling himself up and latching his arms around the rim “YOU’RE A FUCKING AMATEUR!” 

 

With that insult, he plunged his hands into the noodle cup fishing out a few strings of noodles and unlatching himself when he had an armfull. 

 

You silently watched, waiting for him to elaborate on his statement and give you clarity on his opinion, not that you actually cared or anything,  ~~th~~ ~~at was a lie, but you didn't know why exactly~~  , But because it had been a long time since someone had pointed out the obvious and not explained your particular flaws. 

 

Your eyebrows drew down in thought as you leaned your chin on your hands.

 

Man, you really had to stop thinking so darkly about everything, not like there was anything particularly good to think about, but still. 

 

“YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT BITTIES, DO YOU?” 

 

Though he asked, it sounded more like he was confidently proclaiming it. His unimpressed gaze having you shrug in guilty acceptance. Though a trace of a smirk fluttered onto your face “What gave it away?” 

 

He huffed, and stuffed a noodle in his mouth before striding back over to the jar, only to pause and toss the noodles into the jar before going back to the cup for more. 

 

A tiny, disgusted wrinkle of his nose ridge appeared when he swallowed down the mouthful, but it was gone before you really confirmed if you had actually seen it. 

 

“MANY THINGS REALLY. BUT TELL ME, WHY TAKE A FEW FIGHTING BITTIES IF YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO PROPERLY CARE FOR THEM?” 

 

He was back to fishing for noodles, and you had to think a bit before answering.

 

You didn’t feel like you should tell him you were planning on selling them….But that was the reason you had taken them in the first place. 

 

You shrugged your shoulders and leaned back into your couch “I just felt like I needed to?” You cleared your throat awkwardly, a little too aware of his suddenly searching gaze studying you intently. 

 

It wasn’t an entire lie ...you had felt like you needed to, and saying that instead of the alternative would likely get you less trouble. 

 

He let out a huff and continued eating, ignoring your inquiring gaze as you watched the food disappear behind his teeth. 

 

Where did it go? Shouldn't the food just have fallen out or something? 

 

“Whats your name?” 

 

He paused, and gave you a scrutinizing glare before answering “BLACK,” Was all he said, and went back to munching on the noodles in his hands. 

 

You stared, wondering if that really was his name or if he had came up with that on the spot. Not that you really cared, if he wanted you to call him Black for the short amount of time you had him, then Black it would be. 

 

A tilt of your head towards the sleeping bitty had his eyes snap that way and back to you, “MUTT,” He answered your silent question and went back to ignoring you, stuffing mouthful after mouthful behind his jagged teeth. 

 

You started to zone out once again, the exhaustion that plagued you earlier returning tenfold and dragging down your eyelids. 

 

How long had you even slept? 

 

You moved to tug the sleeve of your hoodie down, ignoring the flinch of the bitty across from you when you did, and checked one of the watches strapped around your wrist. 

 

Apparently, you had only slept for about 3 hours. That explained the still devastating exhaustion at least. 

 

Sleep called to you like a silent lover, your body aching to fall back into nothingness and recharge properly. A glance at the bitty revealed that he was still munching through the meal with no current signs of slowing down at all, and you were not about to cut his meal short. 

 

Slumping back into the couch, you fished around for the remote, letting out a small ‘Ah-ha’ when you found it (once again ignoring the jolt of the bitties body when you moved a little too fast) and starting to flip through the channels aimlessly until you finally settled on one about some space documentary. 

 

The droning voice of the narrator didn’t help your sleepy state at all, and you felt your consciousness start drifting every now and then, zoning out as the narrator spoke of the freezing Pluto and vast wonders space held. 

 

Though you snapped back to attention when the bitty got up and moved to the remaining cup of noodles, (which was now somewhat cold) and began pushing it closer to the jar. You thought of asking if he needed assistance, but had the feeling that he wasn’t all too fond of you and would reject any and all assistance you tried to give. 

 

So you sat back, subtly watching him as he struggled with the cup. A few tiny beads of violet droplets sliding down his skull, you thought that was supposed to be sweat or something?? 

 

A few splashes fell over the edge of the cup as it was slid across the surface of the table, and you held back a chuckle when a droplet or two splashed onto the bitty, resulting in him frustratedly freezing in place and swiping at the stuff before it slid into his sockets or anything of the like. 

 

As soon as he had the cup close, he pulled himself up and back into the jar, toppling head first into it in a way that almost had you panicking. But he had sprung up as though the short fall hadn’t bothered him in the least, so you paid no mind to the tumble. 

 

It-He- Black- you forced yourself to mentally call him- had already tossed a couple of strings of noddles into the jar from before, and you watched him settle down and drag the other bitty into his lap. 

 

Prying open his jaw and sufficiently tearing up the noodles to feed it to him. It was...odd. 

 

You didn’t think you had ever seen anyone else feed someone in such a manner- or ever seen anyone feed someone else at all actually. 

 

Adverting your eyes, you went back to halfheartedly watching the documentary. Listening more to the clink and splash every time Black would hop out of the jar and fish for noodles again, hopping back into the jar when he had gotten a handful or two to feed to the other. 

 

This went on for a while, until there was no longer noodles to fish from the cup, and you entertained the thought of downing all the leftover broth, a look at the dirty bitties grimy appearance had you banishing that thought and moving to toss it away. 

 

Looked like you would have to find something else to eat. 

 

You made sure the lid was on the jar before moving, ignoring the scrutinizing stare following you around the apartment as you drained the broth down the sink and started attempting to look like a proper member of society. 

 

Which meant trying to wrestle your hair into something that didn’t resemble a dead rat on your head. 

 

Running your hand through your hair made you wince, the greasy texture and knots you could feel changing your mind into taking a shower before anything else. 

 

You decided to leave the TV on, noticing how Black kept tossing it curious glances when he thought you weren’t watching. 

 

At least he wouldn’t be too bored sitting around, not that you really cared or anything. ~~A~~ ~~t least, that's what you kept telling yourself despite the little, annoying voice telling you that you did~~  

 

Finding semi-clean clothes wasn’t too much of a challenge, and before you knew it, you were under warm, running water. Scrubbing yourself clean as well as you could without further irritating your bumps and bruises. 

 

You took in the extent of your damage as you did, trying to remember how long each injury would heal as you did. 

 

Broken nose, no wait, that wasn’t entirely true. Discovering that your nose wasn’t in fact, broken, was a silver lining for the week. Or perhaps month. Looked like luck hadn’t completely abandoned you. 

 

You trailed your fingers to you neck, trying to fully asses the damage done there, gently prodding it as you stiffly turned your head this way and that. The pain from there prickled at your neck and shoulders slightly, but it wasn’t too bad. You would live. 

 

Next was the bullet graze. 

 

You wearily eyed your bandaged arm, annoyance seeping into you at the awkward position you had to maintain to keep from getting it soaked. 

 

If you remembered correctly, the damage wasn’t too bad, having barely nicked you really. Though that didn’t mean it didn’t burn like someone was constantly trying to rip the patch of skin off. 

 

At least you had some trusty painkillers to help dull the pain a significant amount. If everything went alright, you’d probably be fully-sort-of recovered in about a month. Which wasn’t too bad considering…..everything. 

 

Finished with cleaning yourself, you turned off the shower, ignoring the unpleasant squeak of the knob as you turned it and pulled the shower curtain back. 

 

You stepped out, wrapping your towel around you and pausing when you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. 

 

It was odd, for some reason you felt as though you hadn’t just stopped to look at yourself in a long while. 

 

Though when your eyes started scanning your body you started remembering why. 

 

Scars littered your body, some far lighter than most and some barely scarring over. Your fingers trailed a new scar on your cheek and you remembered the fighting bitty inflicting it on you. 

 

Slowly turning to get better angles, you let your eyes take in all your bodies damage, memories of a few coming back to you. 

 

Though you thought your hands were the worst of it, especially with the beating they had taken from Black. 

 

You opened and closed them, turning them over as you studied all the marks littering them. It was a miracle you hadn't gotten severe nerve damage by now. 

 

A rueful chuckle left you and you gave the reflection in the mirror a crooked grin, finding unbelievable irony in the fact that your scars were a reason you were deemed unfit to be a member of proper society when it was the proper society who had inflicted so many of them onto you. 

 

Tis life. 

 

Best to move on and ignore the harsh punishments of the world. 

 

You quickly dressed, ignoring the aches that screamed at you whenever you bent a certain way, and shuffled out of the bathroom. Rubbing your hair dry with a towel and leaving it on your head as you lazily trudged to down a glass of water. 

 

You eventually found where your shoes had vanished to, a feeling of defeat weighing down your shoulders as you tugged them on, you really didn’t want to go out today. Yet life went on and you had things to do, and you were an unfortunate soul who currently had many things to do. 

 

Pulling your hoodie on, you wearily eyed the bitties, wondering if Black would attempt to attack you again despite the somewhat peaceful moment you two had shared earlier. 

 

“You gonna bite me again?” You shifted to watch him closer, stuffing your hands into your pockets and running your fingers over the scabbing wounds on your hands, waiting for him to answer. 

 

“.......NO,” He said, with a conspiratorial gleam in his eye, and sure you weren’t exactly the smartest but you didn’t entirely believe him. 

 

You frowned, engaging in a stare down with him, mere seconds seeming to stretch out as both of you refused to drop your gaze. 

 

The shifting of the other bitty broke your focus, and your eyes snapped over to it when it let out a groan and rolled onto its back. 

 

It was still alive. 

 

Nice. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .......................This took way longer then I expected......Oops
> 
> dis chapter was not going to go dis way but it did....
> 
> HEY! let me know what you think! Your comments and kudos really keep me going :D 
> 
> also if any of u got tips on writing I'd love to hear em!! (especially on how to pace things properly cuz dis slow as heck)

**Author's Note:**

> I have no self control.  
> I guess the floodgates have just opened. 
> 
> HEY YOU!  
> future chapters can/will be slightly more horrific. Warnings will be addressed each chapter.  
> Proceed with caution if you believe you are able to handle stuff mentioned in the warnings and tags.


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